


Messages to a Brother

by kik283



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post - A Dance With Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kik283/pseuds/kik283
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon sits by the Heart Tree to talk to Bran</p>
            </blockquote>





	Messages to a Brother

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen a bit of fan-fiction with someone sitting by the heart tree to talk to Bran so I thought I'd write one. If there has been one then I apologies but I hope you like mine.
> 
> It is set 7 years after the first book, so Jon is 21, Sansa is 18, Arya is 16/17, Rickon is 10 and Bran is 14
> 
> Disclaimer: I own none of these characters or settings all of which are owned by George R R Martin (the personification of awesomeness). No copyright infringement intended.

Jon never knew how to start this. He sat by the Heart Tree of Winterfell cleaning Longclaw and struggled to find a beginning.

“Hello Bran, I hope you are well” he said to the Heart Tree.

 Jon was never sure whether or not to look at the face of the weirwood, anywhere on the it or whether or not he should look at all. His eyes settled on the weirwood’s face, red eyes staring back. The last time Jon had seen Bran in person he had not looked well. Seated on his root throne, almost skeletal, they had spoken of the Others. Jon’s trek north of the Wall had been a difficult one but with Bran’s help (or Brandon as he had insisted on being called) it had not been impossible.

“Rickon has improved much since his return to us, his wildness seems to be leaving him, despite Shaggydog’s influence” that brought a small smile to his face. Since his return from Skagos with Davos, Rickon had not returned to Winterfell until a year ago. Stannis had defeated and executed the Boltons and was marching south with his army when Davos had arrived. Since then Rickon had been bundled from Keep to Castle to ensure his safety as the last Stark and key that chained the North to Stannis. At least until Daenerys had arrived and kept Rickon on Dragonstone.

“Osha is still with him, sometimes he still won’t let anyone else near him, apart from Sansa. Osha has done what she could but Sansa is like a mother to him. You should see them together Bran, Father would be so proud” he was going to say _your father_ but found yet again that he could not. Despite what he now knew he would always think of Eddard Stark as his father.

“He looks so much like Robb that sometimes I think myself ten again and that we are going to the courtyard to play at swords” tears stung at his eyes but he managed to keep them at bay. Instead he looked down at Longclaw and focused solely on cleaning the Valyrian steel until he was sure he could go on uninterrupted. “He is a good boy and when he comes of age I believe he will make a good Lord of Winterfell”.

He paused, his hand moving the cloth up the shining steel, thinking on what to say next.

“Sansa and Arya have also improved since my return to Winterfell”. Jon had arrived back in Winterfell two years ago, named Regent of the North by the Dragon Queen. At first she had thought of sending him to Dorne to replace one fake prince with a real one, but he was not a politically astute creature and Daenerys knew this. She also knew that he longed to go home, to the North and with her marriage to Willas Tyrell she was in a secure position. Having three Dragons also helped.  

“Sansa’s nightmares continue, but they come less frequently. She has moved to the room next to mine so that I can be there if she needs me”. She had insisted on it in fact, something that bewildered Jon, she had never had a problem with seeking him out before but she had been through much and he would never begrudge her what comfort he could give.

“She has started talking about her time in the Vale, from what I can gather Baelish deserved that knife in the throat a thousand times over”. The memory of her tearful admission turned the simmering anger at her abuse and that he was not able to do anything about it, into a rage. 

He paused, stopping to clench and unclench his hand before continuing his work with the cloth.

“Arya’s trips away from Winterfell have continued to become shorter and her time in Winterfell longer”. He used the word ‘trips’ lightly. Jon meant the times she would suddenly leave to go into the Wolfswood with Nymeria, often spending up to a week in the wilderness. In that time Jon used Ghost to keep an eye on her, Arya knew of course, but she didn’t mind.

“You should see her when she turns up at the gates, caked in mud, her hair in knots and full of leaves and dirt. Sansa despairs and forces her into a bath and takes a brush to her hair each time. I know it would make you laugh brother”. Arya had returned to Westeros with Daenerys and within moments of them being reunited he had ruffled her hair and called her ‘little sister’ again and she had leapt at him, hugging him tight around the neck and kissed him all over his face as she had done at their parting. The memory still warmed him to his core. He smiled.

His smile dropped as his thoughts turned to his Uncle Benjen. There were many differences between his old life as a Snow and his new life as a Targaryen, some of which he liked, many he did not, but he was still able to call Uncle Benjen, Uncle Benjen. He had returned south with Jon after his trek North and was now Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, as it always should have been. However many thought that they should be disbanded as they were no longer needed since the defeat of the Others, a constant reminder of the harshest winter. But Benjen insisted that eventually they would return.

“People think Uncle Benjen mad, but we both know that if even you, of all people, are not certain of their complete defeat then they will most likely return. Let us hope that it is another eight thousand years before then” he said “People still send their criminals to the Wall, Uncle Benjen and what’s left of the Watch do what they can with them. As long as there is a Stark in Winterfell the Wall will be manned”

The Freefolk who settled on the Gift helped to, Tormund and his sons keeping their people to the laws of the Seven Kingdoms and assisted in manning the wall.

Jon felt a breeze, the leaves of the Heart Tree rustled and for just a moment, Jon thought he heard Bran’s voice. This happened occasionally and each time it made his pulse run faster, his heart leap into his throat.

It passed and he continued.

“As for me.....well”. He sighed. Things had not been good for him recently. Another execution of a formerly good man, the long winter had made criminals of many and justice had to be done.

 _The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword._ The whispered words of a ghost in the back of his mind.

The politicking of the northern Lords was frustrating him, in times like these that he was more than grateful to have Sansa with him. She could dance their dance flawlessly until it was her own, dragging him along with her.

Supplies, politics, cultures still clashing, people bowing and scraping to their _prince._ It was enough to drive a man mad. He thanked the Gods that he had competent people around him. Jon allowed himself a small chuckle at that. _The Gods._ Whenever he thanked them or cursed their name he wondered whether or not it should be _Bran_ he thanked or cursed. He tried not to think on it, Bran was alive and safe with the Children and that was what mattered.

Sometimes he wished that he could shoulder some of Bran’s burden. Most of the time however he was selfishly glad it was not him. A flush of guilt swept up him and he bit it back down.

“I have to hold a celebration for Rickon, he will be home one year next week. He is excited at all of the new faces crowding Winterfell” he said “They are going to be a drain on our resources, I already struggle at seeing everyone fed. Daenerys says that more supplies are on the way, I hope they get here in time to see that no one starves”.

He did not mention that Sansa seemed to be very peevish with him lately or that Arya only spoke in length to him and that even after their reunion they were not what they had been to each other. They were close but she kept secrets from him. She did not speak much of what she had done since Kings Landing (now Queens Landing) but Jon hoped that that would come in time; they were beginning to finish each other’s sentences again. It helped somewhat to ease the lance from his heart.

"I don't think I ever thanked you, for your part in saving me. I know Theon deserved to die but I can't help but think that he paid- at least in part- for his crimes" he said "thank you Bran"

Jon stood, sheathing Longclaw, and stepped towards the Heart Tree reaching out and pressing a hand against the trunk.

“I love you Bran. We all do”

This time when he felt the tears prick at his eyes he let them fall, streaming down his face. He stepped back and noticed that the face in the weirwood was weeping tears of scarlet to match his own.

“I miss you”

With that Jon turned and walked slowly back into Winterfell.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For those who read it earliest I edited spelling and a few words here and there.
> 
> Comments of any sort are much appreciated.


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